


Good Cop, Bad Cop

by thyrza



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thyrza/pseuds/thyrza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack appreciates working with Ianto in the field in more than just a team-building sense.  [PWP, deleted scene from 'Acts of Mercy.']</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Acts of Mercy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/447156) by [thyrza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thyrza/pseuds/thyrza). 



> This is a deleted scene from my larger work, Acts of Mercy, and set after episode 01x11, 'Combat.'

  
"Good cop, bad cop," Jack remarks. "I like it."  
  
They're in the stairwell leading from the tourist information centre to the Hub, on the landing twenty-six steps from the top. Jack has Ianto pressed against the wall, hands roaming inside the suit jacket, stroking Ianto's sides through the fabric of his dark shirt.  
  
"Tosh and Gwen haven't gone home yet," Ianto protests, but it's only halfhearted. He's concentrating on breathing, and more excited about the possibility of getting caught than he would like to admit.  
  
Jack leans in closer, lips playfully brushing Ianto's ear. "There are eighty more stairs between us and them."  
  
"Then we should have taken the lift."  
  
"But this way is so much more fun going down," Jack replies, pulling back so that Ianto can see his mischievous grin. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."  
  
Ianto watches as Jack sinks to his knees in front of him, and he's suddenly grateful for the wall to lean against. He licks his lips, mouth gone dry.  
  
"We really shouldn't," Ianto says, though he's certain his tone translates the words to Jack more along the lines of something like _don't stop_.  
  
"Jones, Ianto Jones ... still playing the good cop." Jack looks up at Ianto through his lashes, his sharp blue eyes intense and wicked all at once. He unfastens Ianto's belt and the button on his trousers, and pulls the zipper down with a slowness that's almost torturous.  
  
"Jack --" Ianto begins, whatever he had meant to say lost in a gasp as Jack palms him through the thin fabric of his pants. There's a closed circuit camera not far enough away for his liking, but if they're within range, he reasons wildly, he can always erase the --  
  
"Hey," Jack says, a bit sharply, interrupting Ianto's paranoid imaginings. "Do I need to try harder to keep your attention?" Jack sounds amused, but he punctuates the question with a squeeze.  
  
Ianto drops his head back against the wall with a groan, all conscious thought driven from him.  
  
"That's better." Jack laughs softly, his breath surprisingly warm through fabric. He frees Ianto's cock and a moment later there is the delicious contact of skin on skin, Jack's fingers brushing teasingly along its length. "You know what I think?"  
  
It takes Ianto a second to realize that Jack is waiting for a response. "Mm?"  
  
"I think you think too much," Jack finishes matter-of-factly, placing his hands on Ianto's hips and pushing him back. He leans forward and slowly takes Ianto's cock into his mouth, laving his tongue around the tip. Jack is almost sinfully languorous about it, as if they have all the time in the world, no urgency involved, no chance of getting caught.  
  
Ianto tries to shift, to press forward, to urge Jack onward, but Jack's hands have him effectively pinned to the wall. He reaches his hand down and threads his fingers into Jack's hair, uttering a moan of encouragement. Jack is slow to accept the hint, oblivious or stubborn or maybe just a little bit of both, enthusiastic but almost cruel as he draws back and then forward again, taking Ianto in deeply and swallowing around him.  
  
"Jack," Ianto gasps, a warning tone. "Please --"  
  
Jack pulls away with a last swirl of his tongue around the head of Ianto's cock, and sits back on his heels, looking expectantly up at Ianto. Ianto reaches down and grabs him by the lapels of his greatcoat, then once Jack is on his feet, pushes it off his shoulders to pool on the floor around them. Ianto tugs Jack's braces down and fumbles the buttons down the front of the trousers. Jack takes pity on Ianto with a little laugh half way down and assists in the effort until Jack is also freed of trousers and pants.  
  
Ianto pulls Jack in for a kiss, a messy collision of lips and teeth and tongues, and reaches up to loosen his own tie, suddenly too hot and his collar too tight. He drops the same hand down to Jack's cock, the neglected length twitching in Ianto's grasp as he wraps his fingers around. Jack pushes close, grinding their hips together, one hand sliding down the back of Ianto's trousers to squeeze his ass.  
  
"Lube?" Ianto questions, panting. Jack may still be content to take things slowly, but he's feeling particularly impatient after the excitement of the night, and despite his earlier misgivings, this unexpected shag in the stairwell seems like a perfect way to finish it off.  
  
"In my coat." Jack sounds amused, turning to glance down at the crumpled mass of wool lying across the next four steps down.  
  
Ianto groans, this time in frustration. "I'll make do," he replies, wrapping his hand around both their cocks. He slides his palm over top, getting it slick with precome, and runs his fingers back down, building a steady rhythm.  
  
"Improvisation. I can work with that." The sound that Jack makes sounds like he approves, at any rate, his hips rocking with the pace of Ianto's hand. It's not fast - Jack won't move any faster - but it is desperate, both of them suffering too much pent-up tension and emotion that needs release.  
  
Ianto gasps almost in surprise as he comes, dropping his head back against the wall with a thump. Not for the first time since this began, Ianto is grateful to have something to lean against, his entire body trembling with the aftershock of orgasm.  
  
Jack wraps his free hand around Ianto's, keeping the motion around them steady while Ianto rides out his orgasm. Now at last Jack's pace is urgent, insistent, and his hips jerk forward when he comes with a cry that sounds almost as surprised as Ianto had been. Jack leans heavily forward against Ianto, chest heaving for breath, pinning Ianto even closer to the wall.  
  
"We're a mess," Ianto gradually remarks.  
  
"That was the next step in my bad cop routine," Jack answers. "Communal shower."  
  
"I don't know why I take this kind of abuse," Ianto deadpans.  
  
Jack shifts his weight back off Ianto and turns his head to kiss him on the cheek. It's so chaste it's almost mocking of innocence.  
  
"It's because you love me," Jack replies cheekily.  
  
Ianto isn't certain what to say to that, whether to take it seriously or simply as part of the banter, so he squirms away and tries to rearrange his clothing back into some semblance of decency. It will have to do, at any rate. He forces a tight smile as he looks at Jack, who doesn't seem to have noticed anything wrong.  
  
"Let's go, then. Eighty more steps to get down," Ianto says bracingly.  
  
Jack grins, stooping down to pick up his coat. He shakes it off and shrugs it back on.  
  
"We could go back up and take the lift," Jack offers. "Unless we can stop again at the next landing?"  
  
Ianto rolls his eyes and starts down the stairs quickly so Jack won't see him grinning.


End file.
